ALMOST no contemporary artist causes any excitement in the real world, so it was quite shocking to be at the opening of the Tracey Emin exhibition When I Think About Sex.

Camera crews, paparazzi, packs of hacks - all it needed was a presenter with a giant behind and it would have looked just like Big Brother.

I hear you say: But what's Tracey's new work like, Tony? Well, there are these huge embroidered blankets covered with slogans providing glimpses into the artist's raunchy life - "I Have To Get Tracey Home", "Drunk Again", "She's Fallen Over", etc. - that are strangely moving.

I recall an awards ceremony where Tracey Emin was the only person in the room who was drunker than Johnny Vegas.

And there is always something sad - tragic, even - about someone so desperate to have a good time.

When I Think About Sex also features many self-portraits of Tracey flat on her back with her legs in the air and advertising what she had for breakfast.